L'Angelo della Morte
by Akecheta
Summary: Mysterious executions begin when a new crime family expands its reaches into the Boston area. The Saints have already returned… but so has someone else. MurphyOC and possibly ConnorOC.
1. Prologue: Here Comes a Newcomer

**L'Angelo della Morte **

**By: Akecheta**

**Disclaimer: **I own nothing except my ideas and characters lol.

**Summary**: Mysterious executions begin when a new crime family expands its reaches into the Boston area. The Saints have already returned… but so has someone else. (Murphy/OC).

**Author's Note**: I hope I got the title translation right! (crosses fingers). Well, I'm currently searching for a beta and this is definitely a new genre of writing for little Ol' me. Anyway, let me know and for my readers, let me know what you think so far (I'm currently working on the next chapter). Take care!

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Prologue: Here Comes a Newcomer

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Four bodies, one shooter…

"Well, this is new. It doesn't even look like their style," Duffy murmured, his eyes gazing around at the carnage obstructing the scene.

The victims were identified over an hour ago. All were henchmen, with the exception of one, to the recent, uprooting crime syndicate now beginning to vacate the quiet streets of South Boston. Two years ago, they knew the war had been far from over. However, they hadn't expected new families to take central control so quickly and as boldly as of the past year.

An audible sigh of wistful annoyance broke the heavy silence among them and eyes shifted curiously.

"That's because it wasn't them," Smecker replied, stepping onto the crime scene with the very same bold self-confidence as he had when the last Mafioso executions had begun.

Greenly, Dolly, and Duffy acknowledged his presence with a curt nod of their head, knowing what to expect. They knew he was going to be called in for this sooner or later and it was of no particular surprise that he was there and present standing in front of them.

He knelt with precise caution next to one of the four bodies, lying face down, motionless upon its stomach. Blood had leisurely oozed itself into a sticky puddle around the head, indicating a gunshot wound to the temple. His gloved hand moved cautiously to the victim's head, turning it to a side tilt and a barely audible grunt of acknowledgement indicated his suspicions aloud.

"These men were shot point blank in the head with silencers, no questions, no kneeling, no prayers spoken… these were planned executions, gentlemen. However, unlike our saintly friends, these executions were personal and of a very different nature. Revenge."

Duffy met his eyes unflinchingly. "How do you figure that one, Smecker?"

The FBI agent stood up and moved around soundlessly to the second body, his eyes taking in everything with excruciating detail. "These men were shot and killed upon entry. Three out of the four bodies were moved, as you can tell by the blood trails. One landed face first into the concrete after being shot in the head and the other three were intentionally moved from being on their backside. They were put on their stomachs instead."

Giving Smecker his trademark eye roll, Greenly retorted thickly, "Okay, so the bodies were moved to lie facedown in their own blood. What in the hell is the big deal about _that_?"

Smecker grinned like a cat, his eyes crinkling with silent mirth. "So, volunteering for an old time trip to the coffee shop again for me, eh, Greenly?"

As the detective scowled at him, he continued, "Once again, you Irish cops fail to see the _symbolism_ of the situation," he hissed, "You see, in some cultures when their victim or prey is killed, they lay them face down toward the Earth. It is so their physical vessel faces the underworld and their spirit cannot come back. This means, _gentlemen_, that the shooter intentionally moved their bodies in such positions because they either fear them coming back in the form of Karma _or _their misdeeds were so heinous and unforgivable in life that they do not deserve the "gates of heaven" or another chance at reincarnation to the next life."

"You think this might actually be the work of a victim of theirs rather than the Saints or another organized crime member?" Dolly asked.

Smecker smiled over at him, his countenance revealing nothing but utter delight. "Bingo!" He exclaimed, clasping his hands together audibly. "Fan-Freakin-Tastic!"

Duffy stood silent, suddenly encouraged. His eyes met Smeckers and he nodded quietly. "There was only one shooter, the murders were both personal and pertains to religious symbolism. But, the shooter had to know about the meeting, about the location, and how to enter through…to know all this; they'd have to have been on the inside."

Smecker nodded. "I think my influence has finally made an improvement on you Boston cops. Congratulations, boys, you've just hit the nail on the head."

"So," Greenly interrupted, "What the hell are we suppose to do now other than collect evidence and send these guys back to the morgue?"

"We wait," Smecker replied. "We might just have a newcomer and a potential ally, gentlemen. If not, then another suspect to nail and eventually put behind bars in future time. These executions indicate a lot about our shooter's intentions and it doesn't exactly qualify them under the name for sainthood."

Dolly grinned.

"Maybe an Angel of Death, huh?"

TBC...

: Here Comes a Newcomer 


	2. Chapter One: Looking Into the Mirror

**L'Angelo Della Morte  
By: Akecheta**

**Disclaimer: **I own nothing except my ideas and characters lol.

**Summary**: Mysterious executions begin when a new crime family expands its reaches into the Boston area. The Saints have already returned… but so has someone else. (Murphy/OC).

**Author's Note**: Whew. I kept on rewriting the scenes for this chapter over and over (I had a hard time being satisfied with it lol). At any rate, I'd like to say thank you to those that reviewed for the prologue and for your kind words: **_Devikins_**, **_Irishjeeper_**, and **_GoddessLaughs_**. I'm glad I didn't disappoint and I absolutely_ love_ Smecker! (He's an awesome character and most certainly one of my favs in the movie!). Anyway peoples please read and review and let me know what ya think. Thank you!

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**Chapter One**: Looking Into the Mirror

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The blood seemed to never leave. Eyes followed blankly as faded crimson sluiced leisurely across milky, delicate skin, mixing with the water that tumbled and hammered rhythmically against heavy porcelain toward the faucet drain.

She noticed her skin turning pink from the heat of it… or perhaps it was still the remaining remnants of the sopping stain of death clinging so vehemently to her exposed flesh. Which one, she didn't know nor even bother really taking notice to.

Her gaze shifted from the sink toward the open mirror, her hollow emerald eyes soaking up the haunted apparition reflecting back in front of her. She studied her own image with a near sort of detachment, noticing every foreign detail about herself. It was almost like a stranger was there, watching her in calculating silence through a clear barrier of shimmering glass.

Her skin was pale and abnormally sallow and her hair, dark as a midnight sky, caressed around her sullen cheeks limp and lifeless.

Dried blood caked into a thickening crust around the loose strands surrounding her ears, it was yet another manifested feature that served as a reminder of her earlier deed for retribution.

She stared openly for quiet moments at a time, her thoughts wandering just as glossy tears formed within the round curves of her eyes.

It had _finally_ begun.

0000000000000000 (FLASHBACK) 00000000000000000000

"I got the files from Boston PD. Are you sure you really want to look at these, Lil?"

Stone-faced, Lily Palmer pursed her lips determinedly. "I need to see them for myself, DT."

Her boss nodded with quiet acceptance but gazed at her levelly, his chocolate brown eyes studying her with an unhidden expression of warning. "I know what you're going to do after I hand these over to you. I'm not going to try and stop you. It's just… these guys might just be out of your league. They're Italian mafia, Lil. _**Dangerous**_ men. If you go to Boston and try to nail these guys, I can only help you go so far. You know that, right? 'Cause these guys aren't convicts skipping out on bail and jetting out on the first available opportunity. These guys are a group of cold, calculating killers with no mercy and a lot of connections. You get caught, you get dead. And there isn't any coming back from that."

Lily nodded, her eyes meeting his unflinchingly. There was no flicker of apprehension, neither in her eyes nor in her expression.

"I'll take the risk."

Wordlessly, DT handed over the files. "Sometimes, I think you take too many of them. Do me a favor will you?"

"What?"

"Don't get caught and don't get dead. Whatever you do, don't get yourself lost in this."

Lily smiled at him sadly as his brow creased in worry, his lips set into a grim line. "I'll try my best, DT."

"Yeah… you better."

0000000000000000 (END FLASHBACK) 0000000000000000000000

The files had been what had practically driven her into a raging blood lust. It had been filled with evidence and filled with photographic horrors that would forever be implemented and seared into her memory.

Appearance, precision, and pretense, it was what she now went through on a daily basis.

'_You get caught, you get dead.'_

'_Don't get caught.'_

A chilling surge of gratification hummed through her body for the first time as she stood there, thinking and realizing the full consequence of her actions. Tonight had been her big break. Her year of planning and infiltration had finally come to a higher level of frutation. The act itself had had two lasting effects on her, fulfillment of justice… and disgust with herself for actually enjoying every minute of it.

There was no real pride in her deeds, only a mere flicker of tangible satisfaction. Unfortunately, the men she had killed tonight were only mere foot soldiers in comparison to what she truly wished to pursue.

But first, she needed to gain their attention and wait for the consequent result of it all, start small and watch them squirm… then move on toward bigger opportunities.

Sighing quietly to herself, her fingers shut off the faucet. While she waited in anticipation for tomorrow's events, she had an early morning pit stop to make.

Opening the shower curtain numbly, her thoughts trailed and swayed toward a new light of direction; making peace with past ghosts long buried…

0000000000000 (FOLLOWING DAY) 0000000000000000000

Early morning dew had long since evaporated from the open, sleek grass of South Boston's quiet cemetery, leaving it fresh and clean to linger heavily along with the tranquil, sweet smell of wild flowers.

The intense light of the sun shimmered down from its high perch above the horizon, seeming to highlight even the gloomiest looking of places within the city limits.

The expanding cemetery, despite the brightness and beauty it held, seemed eerie with its stillness and open vastness of closed off land. Beyond its borders sat the church, a mere speck in the distance, surrounded by various shops, boutiques, and local bars where the city ruckus and traffic remained muffled in an unseen background.

The cemetery, at present, seemed to be the right place to vacate on a late Sunday morning. Mass had ended and few people lingered about the area, making it easy to enjoy its quiet solitude and make peace with the rested dead buried within the roots of the rippling, fertile Earth below.

She stood in silence among the weathered headstones, clad in snug-fitting, faded jeans, a long sleeved black sweater, and black leather boots. Her outfit, unlike the weather, most certainly suited her mood for the morning, dreary and apprehensive.

Her steps were slow and hesitant as she approached a familiar plot, her eyes downcast as she noticed with painful realization that instead of one grave, there was now two more added to it.

A single lily and two red roses were clutched firmly in her hand and as she stood there, numb to the core, her eyes rose toward the headstone engravings, the chiseled names invoking nothing but faded memories…

'_Marianne Palmer'_

'_Trisha D' Agastino'_

'_Helena D' Agastino'_

Her fingers tightened into a fist around the stems as she noticed the placed last names for the last two graves.

'_The sick fuck probably even made the funeral arrangements,'_ she thought disgustedly.

There was nothing she could really do about it, only scowl visibly with narrowed eyes in heated rage and disapproval.

Exhaling sharply and drawing up her nerve, she bent down and placed her mother's favorite flower atop the bare portion near her headstone, her eyes glistening with unshed tears as she stood back at a respectable distance.

"I'm sorry I didn't come visit earlier, Ma," she began quietly, her voice low, "there's just been a lot of things that I've had to take care of first. I know you would understand if you were here… I've, um, gotten a job working for the lawyer of the men that killed Trisha… I know you would raise hell if you were here but, I'm going to find them and I'm going to make sure that each one of them pays for what they did, no matter the risk.

I haven't really talked about it to anyone but, back in Jersey, I lost a lot of good friends working in the business after you died. All I seem to do is loose people some how and some way. It's just hard moving on in life when everything ends up falling apart and everything you hold dear ends up being snatched away from you when you least expect it… I'm trying to find my way and maybe when this is all over, I can finally be able to move on. If I make it through all of this, if I come out of it alive, I promise you that I'll try to live the life that you've always wanted for me. I'll try, Ma."

She smiled sadly as she moved onto the next grave, placing a single stemmed rose upon its plot.

"Trisha, even though you were adopted into our family as a child, you were and will always be my true sister… I know we had a falling out. I know you've spent years hating me for making the final decisions for Ma's care before she died. I only abided by her wishes and I know it hurt you because you wanted to hold onto her longer. She was the only mother you've ever truly known… I hope you're not as angry at me about it as you used to be…

"I left after she died because I needed to leave… this city, this place, your anger and distance toward me, I just couldn't stand being here anymore. I regret not trying to patch things up and I'm sorry that I wasn't here to protect you… Ma always told me to watch out for you. I failed her and I failed you. I left you alone and maybe… maybe if I hadn't have been such a stubborn idiot those years ago, you and your daughter would still probably be here… I hope you can find a way to somehow forgive me…

"I'm tracking those responsible. In life, I wasn't there to give you protection when you needed it most… I hope that while in death, I can at least give both you and Helena justice. I'm sorry for everything and I'm sorry I failed you both… rest in peace, little sister."

Slow tears were now trailing silently down her cheeks and with painful clarity, she moved on toward her niece's grave, her hands shaking as she placed the last rose upon its surface.

"Little Helena," Lily whispered, a sad, remorseful smile curving onto her lips, "God, I don't even know how you look like… I bet you're as pretty as your mother was when she was little… I know she probably never mentioned me before to you but I'm your aunt Lily. I was never around or there for you when you and your mom needed me… I left here years before you were even born. To tell you the truth, I didn't even know about you until it was too late… I'm sorry I wasn't here for you… I promise you though that all the bad men responsible will meet their maker and they won't be able to harm any more people like you or your mom ever again. Your Aunt Lily is going to make sure of it.

"Tell your mom that I'm sorry and somehow, someway, I'm going to make it up to you both."

Lily bowed her head, her eyes glimmering and her cheeks stained and moistened with the droplets of tears that had fell in silence as she verbally paid her last respects to those she had loved in their years of life.

Gaining her wits and quelling behind the deep wave of grief that struck and sliced through her, she turned away sharply, her face resolving itself back into a cool, calm exterior.

She needed to be impassive; she needed to be collected… she couldn't let herself falter for even the briefest of moments. To crumble and allow herself to feel would only mean the end of her. She couldn't lose the façade that she spent a whole year developing.

'_Don't get caught…'_

They needed justice… and she wouldn't be able to give it to them if she wrecked herself into a complete, emotional abandon.

'_You get caught, you get dead… and there isn't any coming back from that…'_

She would be no help to them then. In life, she had failed them… it was only right that in death, she at least give them the peace that they deserve.

Her eyes caught movement as she neared the gate, noticing two lone figures standing in utter silence in front of a single, crumbling headstone. They were clad in similar dark attire, shades adorning their eyes, as they stood with their heads bowed in an almost reverent gesture of respect.

She moved in silence to pass by, noticing with a sad smile that only one lifted his head to acknowledge her presence.

She felt the heat of his gaze sear into hers through the barrier of shaded plastic and resisted the urge to look away, a thin frown curving across her lips.

'_God, am I **that** transparent…?'_

She acknowledged him briefly and then continued on, her strides turning brisk and confident as she made her exit out of the cemetery towards the parking lot. She had felt his eyes linger on her, long after she even broke contact. _'Strange…'_

Sighing heavily, her gaze flew toward the church. A weight had been lifted today. This visit served as a renewal and it would help her in the journey forward… toward the blood bath that would soon come to follow.

'_God help me…'_

_  
TBC..._


	3. Chapter Two: Past to Present

**L' Angello Della Morte**  
**By**: **Akecheta**

**Author's Note**: Thank you to Devikins for the kind review and a very BIG thank you to Random Rose for beta-ing this chappy for me. God, I was going mad just trying to put my ideas out in this one! LOL! Anyways, this chapter has a bit of history on Lily and her associations (it is certainly going to come in handy in the future). And guess who's back? OOOOooo Smecker!

Anyway, please read and review and let me know what you think so far. Thank you!

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**Chapter Two**: Past to Present

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Agent Paul Smecker gazed dispassionately around the white-washed walls of Lakeview's modestly small diner, his lips thinning narrowly as he waited in pensive silence for his guests to arrive.

It had taken him time to contemplate his next course of action and considering the abrupt circumstances as of late, this meeting might just turn out well in his favor.

He had spent hours last night re-evaluating the reports and photographs, his interest piquing more and more as he meticulously mulled over every single detail and agonized over every shred of evidence apart of last night's brutal crime scene. He hadn't seen anything like this since the infamous hits that took place two years ago.

Everything about it, however, was different. It screamed "professional"… and "personal" with dead-on accuracy. The shooter was definitely making a statement but along with the message, there was a warning. These murders were of a purely vengeful nature… and that nature was dead-set on the very same crime family that the FBI's Task Force was still trying with vigorous effort to infiltrate.

Smecker ran a hand over his face, mentally flipping through the evidence again. The angles, the wounds, and the body count indicated that the hits were done with a near sort of detached professionalism. From the way the bodies had been positioned after death and how well the murders had been thoroughly planned and carried out, it was blatantly conclusive that the shooter had a vendetta.

These murders, however, weren't primarily ruled by emotion. The act of execution in itself served as a good enough catalyst for their vengeance. At least, for now it did. Either _that_ or they knew that investing too much emotion into their actions would only result in them getting caught in the short run of things. They wanted to last longer… which meant that similar murders were more than likely going to occur in future time.

And _that_ was why he made the resolute decision to call on old friends and set up an inconspicuous meeting at a convenient time and location.

He had the intuitive sense that outside help was going to be needed, help that didn't directly involve the Bureau or the local precinct. Ideas and theories were running through his head a mile a minute… but first things first. He needed to gain affirmation from the very players that he might, in future time, need that help from…

And _that_ might prove to be a difficult hurtle to pass through depending on just how agreeable they were of his terms and conditions if they so choose to implicate themselves within his investigation….

They had arrived in Boston a week ago, which turned out to be a convenient, not to mention miraculous, advantage for him. Finding them in the slums of the overtly crowded Irish neighborhood had been fairly easy, especially after paying Doc McGinty an unexpected visit just prior to the murders…

To tell the truth, after two years of barely keeping in touch with the two, he didn't even know what to expect from this meeting… would they be all up for it or would they refuse the offer…? Either way, he was soon going to find out…

The faint chiming of bells at the front door of the restaurant eased away his thoughts and just as he expected, the subjects of his questions were standing just outside. His eyes shifted toward the front foyer, a smile of faint amusement playing across his lips.

Both walked in through the second set of doors, two dark figures emerging as a simultaneous pair. Their movements were in perfect sync with one another and it was blatantly obvious, even from a neutral observer's vantage point, that they were related.

Each was clad in their usual attire, blue-fitted jeans, black shirt, black peacoat, and the familiar dark shades to hide their eyes – the MacManus trademark.

Their hair was slightly longer, hanging loosely just past their ears and framing well-chiseled features that were almost similar in structure. Their faces seemed somber at first as they strode in, which held no real surprise for Smecker knowing where they had been just prior to arriving.

He stood just as they approached, each brother shaking his hand warmly in greeting before sitting down tersely into the booth across from him. "Nice of you boys to drop in…"

"Aye, Smecker," Connor greeted, "We 'eard ye were still runnin' this side. How's business been?"

"The usual up until now. You boys want anything?"

"Nah, I'm good. Murph?"

The other twin shook his head in refusal just as both removed their sunglasses in one fluid, simultaneous movement. It was almost a surreal phenomenon to witness, like their connection as a pair surpassed all limits and boundaries, even the physical.

Just as it used to be, Connor began the conversation. It was easy to tell that the fair haired twin was more of the smooth, initiate talker whereas Murphy was more or less the one to initiate action. Their relationship as brothers was well articulated in balance and no matter the circumstance, each would do anything for the other.

"So, we came back in the nick of time, eh? What's been happenin' that ya needed to see the likes of us so urgently?" Connor asked.

Smecker gazed at the two twins wearily over the rim of his coffee cup; all traces of humor gone as he finally prepared himself to voice the predicament that he so recently found himself involved in.

"Two problems," he began.

Murphy grinned impishly. "More than one…? I'm gettin' excited about this already…"

"I wouldn't start getting trigger happy just yet, boys," Smecker retorted chidingly, "so far, since you two left for your vacational hide out towards the motherland, we've had a new Italian crime family taking central control this side of South Boston. A gang war has broken out and to add onto our shit pile, your deeds of two years ago have apparently sparked an inspiration for yet another Mafioso executioner."

Murphy frowned at the last bit of information, his eyes shifting toward his brother.

Both shared a similar look of grim astonishment.

Not missing a beat, Smecker continued, "This guy is no amateur either. So far there's been one crime scene with a body count of four, all professionally hit, shot point blank in the head, and moved to lie on their stomachs in ritualistic fashion."

"Wait," Connor interjected, "there's only been one?"

Smecker nodded. "But this guy isn't done yet… in fact, he's far from finished. This guy is on a mission and trust me, it's a personal one. The media is already soaking this up thanks to our local precinct leak, calling him _L'Angelo Della Morte_."

"The Angel of Death is it now?" Murphy asked, bemused. "How long ago did all this shite happen and what do ye want the likes of us to do about it?"

"It happened last night. Since the saints have died down as vigilante icons for the past two years, I've decided to call you boys in for a favor."

Both twins looked over at each other briefly.

Connor nodded, his eyes suddenly shifting to meet Smecker's with a flicker of interest. "Aye, we're listenin'…"

"First, I need you two to continue laying low for awhile. Don't make any hits until I tell you to. I want to catch onto this "Angel of Death's" pattern first. When I have a job lined up, I'm gonna need your help."

"Ya mean ye either want us to catch or kill 'im," Connor corrected.

Murphy nodded. "What if he's a decent man?"

"_That_ is what I'm actually hoping for. You see, boys… if he is, this guy can be the key for everything. The FBI and even our boys from the precinct know little intel on the D'Agastino family. They trust no one. All that's come up are cleaned out warehouses, the occasional dead bodies, and a whole list of missing person's reports. None of our own field agents have even been able to get close enough to these guys in order to infiltrate them. But this guy is somehow on the inside and I think he's more of a chameleon executioner. He blends in and becomes one of them, waits, and then periodically, so as not to get caught, takes them out one by one… He's a good but angry professional. For an agent like myself, I could certainly use him for information."

Both of the brothers paused to weigh the information carefully, each considering it.

Gazing over at Connor pensively, Murphy asked, "Well…?"

"Seems like a wise idea," he answered, "… but under one condition, Smecker."

"Name it."

"We intervene with 'im first. If he isn't killin' for a proper cause like us and is uncooperative, we kill 'im."

"And if he is," Murphy finished, catching onto his twin's idea, "Then we'll see what we can do ta help each other."

"Well, you boys don't really push a hard bargain," Smecker replied, grinning appreciatively, "You got a deal… but, if the situation requires it, I don't necessarily need you boys to wait too long on this. Considering it's already caught the attention of _both _the media _and_ the crime families of South Boston, you'll be less scrutinized in whatever you decide to take action upon… the spotlight is focused on him now, not the Saints. And because of that factor, this guy is going to be _extremely _cautious."

A wry smile touched Murphy's lips as he shared a look with his brother. "Guess we really did arrive in the nick of time…"

"Hmm. Quite the challenge this is then, isn't it?"

"You boys have no idea…"

00000000000000000000 (New Jersey 1999) 00000000000000000000000

'**_Great, another trip to a fucking store…'_**

_Her eyes gazed down bitterly toward the glaring digital clock at her side just as a gruff voice ordered, "Pull up here, Palmer, it's only gonna take a sec."_

_She scowled at her partner through the rearview mirror. "Hurry it up then, Mac. We were all late yesterday because of one of your pit-stops and DT wasn't all too happy about it either."_

_Mac, a gruff and intimidating man of imposing height and build, pursed his lips together in silence. He knew better than to bother arguing with his driver and he frowned with visible irritation as an audible snort of amusement resonated through the car from the passenger side in front of him._

"_Yea, yea," he muttered, his thick limbs moving awkwardly as he shuffled out of the backseat. "I'll be back before you know it, don't get your panties all up in a twist."_

_Her eyes narrowed just as the distinct sound of snickering reached her ears. "What in the hell are you laughing at?" _

_The door slammed and, much to her disapproval, another audible chuckle burst out next to her._

"_You need your tampon changed, Lil?" _

"_Fuck you, Thompson." _

_Running a lingering hand through his dark hair, Thompson gazed over at her in silence… _

_She looked pissed._

_Sighing heavily, he began, "We'll catch this guy eventually. You know that, right?"_

_Lily nodded, a deep frown of frustration crossing her lips. "I'm just getting tired of waiting. We've been after this guy for a full fuckin' month and God knows what the hell else he's going to do before we actually manage to catch him."_

"_He'll get what's coming to him, Lil. For fuck's sake, we haven't fucked up so far on any job we've ever taken and he can't go far without getting caught."_

"_For a guy that you've claimed not be all that smart," she shot back, "he sure seems elusive enough to me. The dumb ones aren't normally like that, in case if you haven't figured that one out for yourself yet."_

"_True," Thompson agreed, "but this guy is a predator. He can't go that long without fucking up by making a mark somewhere in Jersey."_

"_And how many more "marks" is he going to be able to make before we get to him, huh? We have to wait long enough before another body is found, dumped off of the side of a road somewhere before that time? Or wait for another innocent bystander to get clipped right in front of his friends and family?"_

_Her eyes were narrowed at him as Thompson looked over at her. All traces of humor left him as he replied sharply, "We turn these guys in, Lil, we're not the fucking law, okay? We're not judge, jury, and executioner. We're fuckin fugitive recovery… Christ, sometimes I wonder if you're even in the right field of work. You let this job get to you too personally."_

"_Yeah, well, I'm human," she retorted icily, "I'm beginning to even wonder about you at times."_

_Thompson gazed over at her, his anger building once again as their age-old topic of discussion escalated into a full-blown argument. They'd been partners for years. After the death of Jackson the previous year, the man that had held them together as a group, the bond between the two had been deeply severed. _

_Their personalities were too diverse in nature, Jackson had been the middle point of their connection, and now they were merely working together professionally and teetering on a standstill by their differences._

"_You know what? Fuck this shit!" he shouted, opening the car door with more force than needed, "I think I'll run in too. I'm not even going to bother. Talking with you about this shit is like banging my head up against a fucking brick wall! I'll be back in a few minutes..."_

_She didn't even blink as the door slammed forcibly next to her and waited in angry silence for the next ten minutes._

_They never understood the full importance of the job. To them, everything was black and white and anything they did at least ended up with a hefty paycheck in the end… what did it matter to them if people got murdered or raped during their leisure time of waiting?_

_To Lily, it mattered. And in the long run, only their boss seemed to truly understand her reasoning._

_These men that she worked with currently didn't understand that. Then again, neither one could exactly qualify as a poster boy for the average "family man". They were young, impulsive bachelors that took jobs like these just for the mere thrill and pay of it._

_Glancing down at the clock with a scowl, Lily turned in her seat, her eyes flickering back toward the window._

"_A fucking few minutes my white ass," she muttered._

_Sighing in heavy annoyance, her fingers curled around her keys to turn on the ignition._

_If they didn't show up within the next five minutes, she was leaving their sorry asses to walk the rest of the way…_

_As she sat there, she found her attention drawn toward the front entrance just as strange, foreign sounds reached her ears._

_The muffled sound became more audible by the second and her eyes widened as she finally comprehended it to be a loud, simultaneous chorus of panicked screaming._

_A stampede of moving figures emerged through the doors and filtered hastily into the parking lot, running past her car in a blur of rapid motion. _

"_What the FUCK…?!"_

_There was massive hysteria all around her and without even thinking, Lily reached instinctively over toward her glove compartment to pull out her handgun._

_The passenger door suddenly flew open and she looked sharply over at Thompson just as he practically threw himself inside next to her. "What the fuck is going on?!"_

"_Drive, Lil, NOW!!!"_

"_Where in the hell is Mac, Thompson?!"_

_His eyes were wide with panic and a cold chill suddenly crept up her spine as she comprehended just exactly what that look on his face meant. _

"_DRIVE! NOW!"_

_Shifting her gun onto her lap, she pulled the gear into drive and backed out sharply, her car's tires screeching in protest._

_She veered precautiously through the parking lot to avoid the panicking bodies fleeing all around them and the only way that opened for her was near the front entrance. _

"_Fucking hell!" Thompson cursed._

_Just as she neared to pass through, the sound of gunfire reached her ears and she finally caught sight of an approaching shooter, her eyes falling on a tall, heavy set silhouette that was all too familiar to her._

"_SHIT!"_

_He was too close in range to them and with no space to swerve out, Lily had no choice but to try and pass._

"_Take my fucking gun, Thompson! NOW!"_

"_FUCKING SHIT!"_

_Her foot slammed down on the gas pedal, her pulse racing._

_Bullets were now raining down on them and just as Thompson moved his hand toward her, glass suddenly shattered and rained all around them._

"_FUCK! THOMPSON!"_

_He should've fired by now and just as that thought hit her, movement caught her eye._

_Her gaze flickered toward the seat at her side, only to see Thompson slumped over, a gaping wound pierced through his skull…_

00000000000000000000000000000000000

Her eyes shot open just as the distinct sound of a ringing phone pierced through the silence of her downtown apartment.

'_Just a dream… just a fucking dream, Palmer, get ahold of yourself…'_

Sitting up through the darkness, Lily groped for the lamp at her bedside, her fingers shaking just as she managed to click it on with a mumbled curse.

"Jesus," she muttered furiously, "what in the hell…?!"

Who calls at three o' clock in the fucking morning…?

Picking up the phone from its cradle, she croaked out, "… 'ello?"

"Lil!"

'_DT…'_

"Damn, don't you know what time it is?"

She heard an audible huff of irritation on the other line. "Fuck what time it is, Palmer!"

Oh great. He only used her last name when he was _really_ pissed…

Sitting up rigidly in bed with a heavy sigh, she waited patiently for him to continue, knowing just_ exactly_ what to expect next… "I saw the fucking news-"

"I didn't get caught or seen, DT."

"This is what you plan on doing now?! Ex Bounty Hunter turned renegade vigilante shooting up mobsters as the angel of fucking death ?!"

"I haven't blown my cover, DT, and you out of anyone that fucking knows me knows that I'm far from being careless or incompetent with my work."

"This isn't work, Lil," he reminded her harshly through the phone, "I can't fucking believe you left the agency just to do this shit! … I sure as hell hope you know what you're doing 'cause now you got the FBI _and_ the fucking crime families of South Boston looking for your ass."

Lily pursed her lips angrily. One would think that after years of working under the man that he would at least come to rely on her antics… "Andranici doesn't suspect anything and they think they're after a _man_, DT, not a _woman_. I can figure out their operations discreetly. I've spent a whole fucking year gaining their trust as this mother fucker's secretary. They won't suspect me of anything."

There was a pregnant pause on the other line, followed by a heavy sigh… "You know, sometimes I wonder if you're just either incredibly smart or incredibly stupid, Lil."

"I know. But, you said it yourself… I get caught, I get dead. I promise you I won't end up coming back to Jersey in a body bag. I need to get this done."

"So, you actually _plan_ on coming back to work for me?"

"Honestly? ... I don't know. I lost three partners already and then I lost my family. I don't even know if I'll be qualified as 'sane' after this…"

There was fond smile in his voice as Lily heard him reply, "Knowing you, probably not. You weren't even sane to begin with, to tell you the truth… sometimes I just worry, Lil."

"Yeah, I know."

"Look," DT began, "I have some connections in Boston-"

A crooked smile touched her lips. "Local, fellow Bounty Hunters, huh?"

"To put it mildly, Palmer, yes… and these guys are old friends that I'd trust my life with, so don't doubt me on this one. Eventually, you're going to need help and I don't give a flying _fuck_ if you think otherwise… you're caught up in some serious shit here, Lil."

"I can take care of myself, DT."

"Don't argue with me and just listen," he snapped, "You're good at your job; I'll give you that… but organized crime members? I don't think you're _that_ good. I've been worrying about you for a whole fucking year now-"

"And you knew what I was going to do even before I left, DT. What's with the change?"

"It's just getting too real for me now. I've already lost too many people, I'm not about to chalk up another person to my list… Now, I'm going to give these guys a heads up about you. After I talk with them, they'll do whatever you need them to with no questions asked. So, _if_ and _when_ you need some assistance, you _will_ call these guys. I don't want you dead and quite frankly; I don't think you want that either. So, I'm going to give you a call tomorrow with details."

"Fine. But only if I need them," Lily agreed, scrunching up her nose stubbornly. She didn't like this idea of his and the man certainly well knew it too.

"That's all I ask… I'll talk to you tomorrow then."

"Okay."

"And Lily-"

"Yeah?"

"Don't do anything stupid and don't get caught."

"I'll try my best. Goodnight, DT."

"Yeah, goodnight…"

TBC...


End file.
